Multitude
by DarkestAphelion
Summary: Pairings with Bakura Ryou being the connecting theme for a collection of one-shots. Every chapter, a new word for the title. [Ch.4 - prothalamion - Yami Yuugi x Ryou, one-sided]
1. prophylactic

**A/N:** Some of them are fluff, some of them are not. This one happens not to be. "Bakura" is the normal one, not the spirit, unless otherwise noted.

**-**

**Chapter 1- **prophylactic

-

_prophylactic-_

_1. preventing or guarding from disease  
2. protective, preventive_

-

There was a soft, persistent rain.

A young boy, white and frail, stood at the edge of a graveyard, in front of a cracked tombstone. The grass there was overgrown with weeds, although most of the graveyard was well-tended. November air blew dried leaves over to mix with the loam of the ground.

He ground the leaves under one leather sole.

"I have to transfer schools," he said. "Not even a year, this time. Father will run out of private schools to place me in."

He paused. "I don't know why it's my fault. The last time I remember this... some of my friends helped me. Yuugi... Anzu... you would have liked them. But I can't figure out why things are going wrong now. I... I... one person has died.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't protect you, and now... I cannot protect strangers or _friends_."

His voice was almost drowned out by the sudden downpour.

Bakura shivered and stared gloomily at the tear in his umbrella. His dark wool clothes were damp and stuck to his body. They would be ruined tomorrow.

"Landlord."

"Yami?"

"Are you done?"

Rather than answer, Bakura turned his back to the spirit's form. Squatting down, he used a gloved finger to wipe the filth off one stone-carved letter. "I can't believe they would let your grave go to ruin," he mused. "Just because Father doesn't... they're... well, priests are supposed to do well by the dead."

The spirit bent down as well. "It's time to go."

There were a million meanings in his words.

"I couldn't protect her!" he cried. "Now I can't protect myself, or anyone from myself. I thought that you would help me sometimes. When we were in Domino, it seemed like you would. I thought you were some kind of prophylactic companion."

The other shook his head. "I don't know why you expect..."

Bakura sighed. "I have another week here. Will you let me go back to Domino this last time?"

"I don't know what you hope that will accomplish."

"One last time."

The spirit shrugged. "All right. Only if it will stop you from going to pieces over that pharaoh's consort."

"Even if I take responsibility for your actions," said Bakura, "you're still the one we both know killed him. I have to go and say goodbye before I leave this country for good."

"Tsk. I'm not making you leave."

"Japan doesn't long tolerate murderers," Bakura said hollowly.

He felt, then, that he was held in a light, prophylactic embrace. But it was impossible to tell whether the wind or another soul whispered condolences in his ear. Bakura held the other's hand, and there was bittersweet love in his grip.

"I can't believe that I gave up my home and my friends for you."

They stood and turned away, then, and walked out of the churchyard. The fallen gingko leaves crumpled under one pair of soles.

-

**A/N:** I'll try to update a few times a week. Review!


	2. traduce

**A/N:** I'm really sorry if you reviewed this chapter before I deleted it :: sweatdrop :: I realized it would be a better idea to put this word for ch. 2 because the next one was going to be Malik x Ryou and it would be weird to have this and that following right afterward.

And then I was going to put it up later Sunday but I didn't have time. Ok, I'll stop rambling now.

-

**Chapter 2**- traduce

-

_traduce-_

_1. to expose to shame or blame by means of falsehood_

_2. to violate, betray_

-

Yami no Malik turned a page of his magazine. The sound resounded in the quiet room.

He cleared his throat. "The recent bombings in the Gaza strip have provoked Egypt to a more defined policy regarding the terrorist activities in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict... Egyptian foreign minister Al-Anql made a public statement earlier today that..."

"Stop it."

He glanced at Bakura. "Yes?"

"Don't bother rambling to fill up the silence," said Bakura. "I know what you're doing."

"Do you know why I'm doing it, then?" Malik asked evenly.

"I wouldn't even begin to guess," Bakura replied. "You know, Yami Malik... I'm starting to think that Yuugi-tachi was right about me getting involved with you. And you _know_ how I _hate_ to admit that they're right about anything."

Malik snorted. "Well. High praise."

"Stop _mocking _me," Bakura insisted. "You think you don't have to listen to me, just because you know what I'm about to say?"

"Let me continue your thoughts, if I may," said Malik. "Let's see... I shamed you. You feel like I "exposed" you to people you don't trust. You feel violated and betrayed." He grinned. "Am I close enough?"

Bakura was silent.

"Look," Malik said harshly, "don't expect more from me. You knew what you were getting into. I have no idea why you're attracted to me, so if you don't either then you're a masochist if you stay."

"You only hurt me emotionally," mumbled Bakura.

Malik rolled his eyes. "Ohh, no, must never put a blemish on delicate maiden's heart, I forgot."

"I'm not a _maiden_!" Bakura yelled.

Malik shrugged. "Close enough. Only a girl would care if Shaadi and the pharaoh found out about our sex life. Ooh, Yami Yuugi knows you get tied up and hung in a closet, I'm sure his faint appetite is going to be ruined by _that_."

"He already thinks I'm dirt for being with you," said Bakura.

"So there's nothing new there, then," said Malik.

"I can't believe I let this happen _again_," muttered Bakura. "Bad enough for you to traduce me in front of Yami- I think I've almost forgive you for that- but all of my friends as well..."

"Ryou. Don't be an idiot. If you stay, you'll put up with me and stop that infernal whining sound you like to make."

Bakura stood up. "Why haven't I left you yet?" he asked the air.

Malik leered at him. "I think that you just like being emotionally violated," he said.

And after a pause, Bakura sat back down.

-

**A/N:** Ok... yeah


	3. prolix

**Chapter 3**- prolix

-

_prolix-_

_1. unduly prolonged or drawn out : too long  
2. marked by or using an excess of words_

-

There was a dent in the pillow beside him.

Bakura smiled at the goose feather roll as he smoothed out the cotton cover. The pillow was still warm against his hand.

"You're awake."

"Otogi?" Bakura rolled over to face the dark-haired boy, whose curls were mussed from a night of tousling and turning.

"Yeah. Bakura-kun. Uh... um, I... Bakura-kun." Otogi faltered. He looked down at the pale young boy stretched out on his bed, and he swallowed. Sat down beside Bakura and idly ran a finger through his tangled white hair.

"_What_."

"You're snappy today," said Otogi. "Shut up and be a good little bed-slave." He blinked. "Um."

Bakura made a face. "You sure have a way with words."

"Sorry, sorry," Otogi said. "Um..."

"Am I really your bed-slave?"

"Huh?" Otogi looked up. "Oh... well, no." He made a face. "Not unless you want to be, that is. I! I- mean, never mind."

Bakura laughed. "So shy," he said. "I mean, you're always wordy when you can't get what you want out of your mouth, but today you seem to be more prolix than usual. I would think that you're... _uncomfortable_ with something."

"Oh!" Otogi blushed. "Well, I must say... you're taking this a lot better than I am."

"Hm?" Bakura looked up innocently. "Taking what?"

Otogi turned a deeper shade of red. "Nothing."

"Are you uncomfortable with me?" asked Bakura. Otogi warily watched as he scooted closer on the bed.

"NO! No- no, I'm not uncomfortable at all, what would you make think that Bakura-kun!" He now resembled a tomato with a spider sitting on the top.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No!"

Bakura sighed. "All right then, Ryuuji-chan. Let me guess. You're just a little uncomfortable because you think that after Kaiba-kun's party last night you were too drunk to know any better and I was too drunk to protest, and we did something indecent last night."

"Wha- oh gez, Bakura-kun I'm really, really, really, really..."

"Shut up. Didn't you hear me say that that's what you _thought_?"

"Thought..."

Bakura giggled. "Ryuuji-chan, you're just too much fun. Honestly, I can't believe you're as good for games being so bad under pressure as you are."

So if what Bakura was implying...

"DAMNIT, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, BAKURA! IF I EVER DO DECIDE TO SLEEP WITH YOU I'M GOING TO WRITE A DAMN NOTE TO MYSELF ABOUT IT BEFORE I LET YOU DO THIS TO ME AGAIN!"

"You'll decide to sleep with me again?"

Otogi blinked. "Again?"

-

**A/N:** I have absolutely no. Idea. Where. That. Came. From. Don't expect anything like that again in this fic, I really don't like how this turned out funny but I can't seem to fix it either way.


	4. prothalamion

**Chapter 4**- prothalamion

-

_    prothalamion- a song in celebration of a marriage_

-

In a temple grounds in Kyoto, there was an outdoor celebration that day. There were cherry blossoms on every patio, and their sweet scent filled the air. A light breeze scattered the rose-shaded petals upon white tablecloths.

Bakura idly poked at one petal with a chopstick. The snowy center browned and tore through. He sighed and blew it onto the ground.

"Bored?"

He glanced up in surprise to meet a pair of merrily twinkling violet eyes. He shrugged in response. "I never like ceremonies."

"But what a ceremony this is!" exclaimed Yami no Yuugi. "A wedding is the happiest kind- only a joyful occasion, and with none of the burdens of extending a family or adding another mouth to feed. I think we can all bear a little boredom in between for this kind of thing."

"Yes, I suppose so," said Bakura. He smiled at the spirit as he gathered another fallen flower head.

"We had nothing like this when I was a young man," Yami mused. "Of course, there were other attractions... it was a wonder to see the dowry that the families somehow managed to come up with. Of course, the banquet... dance shows. Harps, lutes, clappers... you don't have these things today."

"They still might in Egypt," Bakura reminded him. He grinned a little as he tuned out the spirit's reminisces.

"Excuse me!" he heard Yuugi shout, to no effect. "Um... excuse me!"

"SHUT UP EVERYONE!" Jounouchi shouted.

Yuugi made a face. "Thank you, Jou. Well, anyway, if you could please pay attention now, we're going to start the toasts." He cleared his throat. "To begin. I would like to propose a toast to... my wife... Anzu. I can't believe I'm standing before you today..."

Bakura sighed as Yuugi went on. He snuck a look at Yami no Yuugi. The spirit's smile was still there, though it had begun to look a little forced. One hand was tapping the table nervously.

He counted thirty-seven turns of the minute hand on his watch before the last speaker, Honda, had finally sat down and the caterers bustled out with serving plates.

"Do you find the food to your taste?" he asked Yami.

The Egyptian nodded. "Very much so, although it's different from what I would expect. You don't have lotus-cakes here in Japan, do you?"

"We do, actually," said Bakura. "But Western-style weddings are the trend these days, and they don't have them over there." He looked around at the other six people at his table.

Honda and Miho were whispering something and holding hands below the table. Mai was tapping her feet, staring annoyedly at Jou's empty chair. Kaiba's place was empty, save for his laptop. Mokuba was watching his brother work, while making a pyramid with the miniature sugar scones.

Bakura looked back at Yami Yuugi. "So... is this all right?"

"I don't know what you..."

"Yes you do," snapped Bakura. "You don't have to pretend around me. You for one should be allowed to wear a sad face on Yuugi's wedding day."

Yami no Yuugi sighed. "Not here. Come with me." He led Bakura to a secluded part of the grounds.

"So how do you really feel?" Bakura said softly, once they were there.

Yami didn't answer him. Instead, he leaned against the patio railing and hummed a tune Bakura didn't recognize. It was a lilting melody, high, yet drawn and haunting. It spoke of Middle Eastern instruments.

"What song is that?" Bakura asked.

"A very old song," he replied. "It's something they played at wedding celebrations. An ancient prothalamion. Very hard to perform- you only heard it at the places of the highest classes."

"A song?"

"I've endured greater pains in my life," answered Yami. "I am not the right person for him- this is the way things should be. There will be more happiness in the world if I am glad for them."

Bakura raised his eyebrows. "What did I expect from you? You're... always like this. You think too little of your own."

"He is my aibou," said Yami. "Simply my partner. This is what is right."

There was such a profound sadness in his downward gaze. Bakura impulsively reached out to pull him close, and Yami rested in their embrace. Bakura crooned a wordless notes as he rubbed his back.

"Thank you," Yami said in time. "You shouldn't have to put up with me."

"I would always," Bakura answered honestly. "Don't ever hesitate to put your troubles on my plate. I'll always be here for you."

He flushed when he heard what he had said. Yami no Yuugi had already pulled away, and had started walking towards the main house.

"Come, Bakura," he called back. "We don't want to miss any more than we already have!"

"Yes," said Bakura. "Throwing rice, and all of that."

He smiled a little.


End file.
